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Washington State’s largest city was the epicentre of the musical earthquake (Nirvana, Pearl Jam) that trashed my beloved hair bands (Def Leppard, Whitesnake). In 1994, five albums by Seattle groups topped the Billboard charts. Ugh!

But hey, 20 years later, maybe it’s time for me to forgive and forget.

With great trepidation, I headed to Seattle recently to explore the attractions, dining, and shopping in some newly trendy neighbourhoods. Would the grunge aftershocks finally have subsided? Or would I wind up lying on a beat-up couch, whining about my life?

I’ll admit I’m a little burned out on the tourist-heavy, waterfront Pike Place Market. So instead, I checked into the Pan Pacific Hotel in South Lake Union, an area best-known for the office buildings of Amazon.com.

Yet the Pan Pacific has rewritten the book on creature comforts. To turn Soundgarden’s phrase upside-down, the just-renovated, 153-room luxury hotel isn’t exactly a “Rusty Cage.”

Picture soaker tubs and walk-in showers in every room, with natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows, and superb views of the Space Needle next to Elliott Bay. Across the courtyard, I worked out at the ginormous gym and got a decadent massage at the Ayurvedic-themed Vida Spa.

And after tasting the food, I definitely didn’t want to shoot myself.

Before dinner, I noshed on designer sushi, crab cakes, and edamame dip in the Pan Pacific’s lobby bar. At the in-house Seastar Restaurant, I ordered a scrumptious Caesar salad and a fire-grilled filet mignon with Yukon Gold mashed potatoes.

As I strolled around, I realized how brutally inappropriate the lyrics of Temple of the Dog’s “Hunger Strike” are in this neighbourhood.

Singers Eddie Vedder and Chris Cornell wouldn’t be bawling, “I’m going hungry!”, if they breakfasted at La Toscanella. At the lively Italian bakery, you dine on marble counters beneath art-deco lights. I dug into my prosciutto skillet with cured ham, artichokes, and mozzarella cheese with unabashed joy. My only regret was not trying the almond paste croissants.

I found a lunch option that was more tasteful than Alice in Chains’s “Rooster.” If Jon Bon Jovi ever dined at Tutta Bella, he might change the title of his biggest hit from “Livin’ on a Prayer” to “Livin’ on a Pizza.”

This 2004-founded Neapolitan pizzeria actually set up a wood-fired oven at a local Air Force base when President Barack Obama was in town. Aboard Air Force One, he ate a fresh “Il Presidente” pie with Italian sausage and pickled peppers. I washed down my “Roberto” slices (chicken sausage and pistachio puree) with Pacific Northwest-brewed Anthem Cider.

From a culinary standpoint, South Lake Union is the equivalent of Poison’s “Nothing But a Good Time.” Frankly, who needs heroin?

My cultural appetites were satisfied at the Museum of History & Industry (MOHAI), located next to Lake Union since 2012. It’s no place for slackers.

In the grand atrium, I gaped at refurbished local icons like the pink Lincoln’s Toe Truck – a 1979-built tow truck shaped like a human foot – and a giant Rainier beer sign. Also bewilderingly fascinating was the “Wawona” sculpture, crafted with wood from a vintage schooner, standing 65 feet high and weighing 11,000 pounds.

MOHAI’s second floor dazzles with the Seattle Journey, which uses vivid posters, dioramas, and memorabilia to recount important chapters in city history, from the World War II Japanese internment camps to the 1962 World’s Fair.

At the rock music-focused EMP Museum, a short walk from the Pan Pacific, I bravely confronted grunge-era relics. These ranged from a grotesque anatomical statue promoting Nirvana’s In Utero album to a photo of the Moore Theater marquee for SubPop’s 1989 multi-band concert entitled Lamefest.

Yet I was more enthused by Metallica performing a thunderous version of “Battery” on the museum’s huge Sky Church screen, filmed at the EMP’s 2000 grand opening. And after honing my ability to play the Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie” on one guitar string at the Sound Lab, my faith in Pacific Northwest rock and roll was restored.

South Lake Union isn’t the only ‘hood that’s building a reputation for angst-free hedonism.

I drove over to nearby Bellevue, Seattle’s biggest suburb, and spent a night at the Hyatt Regency. When I entered my suite, a customized iPod playlist including the Doors and the Police (as opposed to Mudhoney) greeted me.

And Bellevue rocked – the right way. I first perused the original, eclectic collections at the Bellevue Arts Museum. From photorealist Chuck Close’s 2000 silk-screen self-portrait, comprised of wildly psychedelic squares, to Sipho Mabona’s “The Plague,” featuring a flying army of origami insects made of American $1 bills, there was something here to intrigue gallery-goers of all ages.

At The Bravern, Bellevue’s California-style outdoor mall, I was glad I wasn’t wearing an unwashed flannel shirt when I entered the brand-new Gucci flagship store. “It’ll be an icon for a lifetime,” a salesman assured me when I glanced at a $20,000 crocodile-skin handbag with bamboo handles. I contented myself with inhaling the rich scent of leather.

However, I admired the mall’s amazing public art, like the Quantum Man sculpture by Julian Voss-Andreae outside the Bravern One tower.

There was no denying it: Bellevue’s culinary scene was more spiritually akin to Van Halen’s “Everybody Wants Some” than Nirvana’s “All Apologies.”

I had a pre-dinner flight of local whiskies at Lot No. 3, a laid-back cocktail bar with high ceilings, brick walls, and leather couches.

The adjoining Purple restaurant offered even more indulgence. Sommelier CT Doescher guided me through diverse Washington State wines, from the 2011 Fall Line Tempranillo with its dusky black cherry flavour to the round, rich 2012 L’Ecole No. 41 Semillon. It all took my stuffed dates and oven-roasted New Zealand rack of lamb to another level.

As much as I hate to quote Pearl Jam, I’ll say this: “I visited Seattle, and...I, oh, I’m still alive.”

- The author was the guest of Pan Pacific Seattle and Visit Bellevue, neither of which reviewed or approved this article prior to publication.

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